Survive or Die

by Catherine Dilts

  “Madison called camp,” Aubrey said. “Veronica knows—”

  Bender groaned. Candace knelt and shook a pill out of a case like the one Jeremiah’s mimi carried when she went to play bingo. Bender pushed her hand away.

  “Those damn pills aren’t working,” he said. “Nitroglycerin gives me a screaming headache. These aren’t helping. They’re the wrong pills.”

  “That’s not true,” Candace said. “The medicine might be all that’s keeping you alive. Please, Jack. Take your pill.”

  He let her stick a pill under his tongue.

  “Listen up, people.” Bender’s voice was thready. He attempted to raise himself on one elbow, but fell back on the bed of pine needles. “Whoever gets me to camp gets a raise.”

  The sky was growing light with the promise of dawn. All they had to do was wait for rescue, but Rankin edged closer, determined to follow Jack’s orders to the end.

  “Shut up and be still,” Grant said.

  The sharp words halted Rankin as though they’d been meant for him.

  “Money,” Bender croaked. “Any amount. I know you people—”

  “Your promises are worth nothing,” Grant said. “I know about the plant closing.”

  The collective gasp sent a raven flapping through the trees with a startled “awk.” Jeremiah knew, too. But I kept my sorry mouth shut. He’d been so intent on courting Madison, he’d exposed her to untold dangers. They could have avoided the disastrous final day of Survive or Die if he’d manned up and exposed the secret to the rest of the campers.

  “He’s lying,” Bender said, his voice almost a whisper.

  “Candace,” Grant said, “don’t act surprised. You knew about it, too. Aubrey and I were in the museum when Doug told you the plant had been sold.”

  “You mean to tell me this entire week was for nothing?” Rankin jabbed a finger at Grant. “And you knew it?”

  “I first learned about the closing Thursday at the museum,” Grant said. “I was in the dark, along with everyone else.”

  “Is that true?” Rankin turned toward Bender’s shelter. “Are you closing the factory?”

  “My dear wife is selling out,” Bender said. “It’s not my decision. She owns the place.”

  Rankin roared like a wounded bear and rushed toward Bender. Jeremiah grabbed Rankin’s arm and pulled him to a halt. The redhead swung a massive fist, grazing Jeremiah’s shoulder. The fight was on. The guy must have boxed professionally, judging from the force of his punches, but he was no street fighter.

  Jeremiah got in a couple body blows that slowed down the Scotsman. When Rankin’s fist smacked into Jeremiah’s nose, stars danced in front of his eyes, and blood spurted down his mustache. Madison screamed. Grant joined the fray, ducking fists until he pushed the men apart.

  They faced each other, breathing hard. Rankin had used up whatever energy he had left after a night in the woods. Jeremiah dabbed his sleeve against his nose, enjoying the attention as Madison fretted, convinced the gentlemanly round of fisticuffs was a life or death battle.

  “Is it broken?”

  “Naw,” Jeremiah assured her. “It’ll be fine.”

  Rankin wrapped his arms around his ribs and grimaced. “I should have left the old bastard in the mine.”

  Aubrey shook a finger at Rankin. “You pushed Bender in.”

  “I’m the one who rescued him,” Rankin said. “If I hadn’t heard him, Jack would still be there. Dead by now. With any luck.”

  “So who pushed him in?” Aubrey glared at the people clustered around the smokey fire. “Who shot Doug? And gave Jessie a concussion? Who arranged Harv’s accident? The one that was meant for me? And who stole Stewart’s epinephrine injector?”

  “What about Stewart?” Rankin asked.

  “If you had been part of Stockton’s Revenge, instead of chasing after Bender with your nose up his—”

  “Aubrey.” Grant placed a hand on his wife’s arm and shook his head.

  “Aubrey thinks Stewart was murdered,” Madison said.

  Candace studied Bender, a bland expression on her face that might have signaled exhaustion.

  “The police said Stewart’s death was an accident,” Rankin said.

  “Someone planted bees in his room,” Aubrey said. “And hid his epinephrine injector.”

  “You think you have it all figured out.” Candace turned to face Grant’s wife. “So tell us, Nancy Drew, is the killer here?”

  As the adrenalin spike from witnessing the two large men fighting like enraged grizzly bears collapsed, Aubrey shivered from cold and exhaustion. She held tight to Grant’s arm. The game might have ended with Ted’s victory, if Millie hadn’t pushed Rowdy’s ATV down Gold Hill. They would have made it back to the parking lot before the bridge and the road washed out. If it had played out that way, though, the week would have ended without a resolution.

  “The killer—” she began.

  “I’m not listening to you idiots quibble about nonsense.” Bender tried to sit up, then fell back on his pallet.

  “Rankin was right.” Jeremiah accepted a handful of tissues from Madison, and pressed them to his bloody nose and mustache. “We should leave Jack here for the bears. Maybe lay a trail of jerky to make sure they find him.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Grant said. “We have to get him out of here.”

  Aubrey helped Grant assemble a stretcher from two pine poles and rope. Madison and Jeremiah prepared Bender for travel. Rankin volunteered to carry one end of the stretcher.

  Candace followed the path trampled down earlier through the brush. She had followed a career path nearly as muddy and obscure—one that relied on youth and beauty rather than hard work. At the same time that age was catching up with her, she had learned of Jack Bender’s deception. There was something truly karmic in her situation, but that didn’t stop Aubrey from feeling sorry for her.

  Candace screamed and vanished from view. Grant and Rankin stopped, setting down Bender’s stretcher. Aubrey pushed past them.

  “I think it’s broken.” Candace grasped her ankle and moaned. “Send Search and Rescue for me after you get Jack to safety.”

  Aubrey had dealt with many sprained ankles and a few broken bones with her kids. She had seen worse. She offered her arm.

  “Can you stand on it?”

  Candace leaned on Aubrey. She placed weight on the injured ankle, then grimaced.

  “I can’t hop all the way to camp.”

  “Just to the parking lot,” Aubrey said. “We’re not leaving you out here alone.”

  Aubrey let the rest of the group pass, then followed slowly, with Candace limping awkwardly. Their traveling companions faded from sight. As they neared the river, Aubrey heard a vehicle horn blasting.

  “They made it to the parking lot,” Aubrey said. “First thing I want when we get back to camp is a long hot shower. Or hot cocoa. Anything hot.”

  While Aubrey babbled, Candace was silent. When they reached the rope bridges, Aubrey stopped. She was elated to be at the end of the disastrous adventure, but that also meant the end of her opportunity to identify Stewart’s killer.

  A siren wailed loud enough to be heard above the roaring of Thunder Falls.

  “They must be taking Jack to the hospital,” Aubrey said.

  Candace didn’t express any relief. Aubrey supported Candace while she hobbled to a rope bridge. When she grasped the railing with her free hand, Aubrey tried to step back.

  “I can’t make it by myself.” Candace tightened her arm around Aubrey’s shoulders.

  “I don’t think a bridge will support both of us.”

  “One of them held three men. You don’t think they got Jack to walk across on his own?”

  They hadn’t been there to see, but Aubrey agreed it was unlikely.

  “I wonder which one they
used.” The thought of crossing any of the rickety rope and wood plank bridges made Aubrey light-headed with anxiety. “It might be the strongest.”

  “They’re all alike,” Candace said.

  Except for the one dangling low in the river. Supporting Candace as she hopped one-footed was a challenge. Her arm slipped up around Aubrey’s neck.

  “Hey. Not so tight. You’re choking me.”

  “I’m sorry, Aubrey.” Her tone was snide. “I guess all the deception this week has taken a toll on my nerves.”

  She relaxed her grip just a little.

  The bridge swayed. Aubrey’s feet slid on the wet planks. She clutched the rope railing with one hand while supporting Candace with her other arm, until the swaying stopped. They took mincing steps that were getting them nowhere fast. The palm of Aubrey’s hand stung from rope burn acquired during the first challenge. The other palm oozed blood where the canning jar had gashed it. She had come full circle, her injuries a reminder both of her botched river crossing, and her failure to solve Stewart’s murder.

  A shiver ran through Aubrey, not caused by the cold spray of river water, but by the realization that Candace might have been motivated to kill for her career.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  The gun exploded in Sotheara’s hand and jerked back violently, nearly hitting her in the face. The shot echoed through the narrow valley as though repeating her sin over and over. She dropped the gun and grasped her wrist.

  What have I done? Sotheara couldn’t shoot an arrow at a fake deer in a stupid camp challenge, and now she’d shot a human being? So much for principles.

  Berdie overcame her nausea the instant the shot was fired, grabbed the gun, and crouched behind the barrels.

  “You missed.”

  “Oh thank God!” Sotheara trembled with a sickening combination of relief and fear.

  “Are you kidding?” Berdie asked. “If he kills us, he’ll cook us both in a stew and feed us to the next round of campers.”

  Not the vegetarians, Sotheara wanted to say, but she was having trouble keeping the bile down. Better to not open her mouth.

  Another shot exploded across the valley, from Bud’s gun this time. Sotheara screamed when the bullet thunked into the barrel she hoped would protect her.

  “He gets much closer,” Berdie said, “those shots will pierce right through these plastic barrels. And whatever muck is inside.”

  Without warning, Berdie pulled her trigger. Above the sound of the shot, Sotheara heard a shout.

  “I winged him,” Berdie said. “Let’s hope that slows him down.”

  “I didn’t sign up for this. Not some crazy Wild West shootout at the OK corral.”

  “You can thank me later for saving your life.”

  Berdie scowled as she peered over the top of the barrel, the gun gripped firmly in her hand. Age might classify her as a little old lady, but there was nothing frail about her. If anyone could get them out of this mess, it was Berdie.

  “I’m sorry,” Sotheara said. “I do appreciate what you’re doing.”

  “He’s leaving,” Berdie said.

  Sotheara stood. Bud grasped his right bicep with his left hand. He retreated down the trail back to camp.

  The rope bridge swayed. Aubrey gripped the railing with one hand. The rope burn didn’t hurt as much now. Her whole body had gone numb with cold and fear. The safe course of action might be to keep her mouth shut and focus on getting Candace across the bridge. But then she would never learn the answers to a dozen questions.

  “When Jack dropped his bomb about the plant closing, that wasn’t the first you learned about it. Grant and I overheard your conversation with Doug in the museum. You must be really upset, especially after Bender promised you a new position.”

  “What is it with you, Aubrey? Sneaking and spying. You’ve got it all figured out.”

  That was the second time she’d used that phrase. Candace obviously thought Aubrey knew more than she did, because there were enough loose ends to knit an afghan. Maybe if Aubrey kept her talking, Candace would spill the rest of the story.

  “You bet your future on Bender’s lies, but really, that’s no one’s fault but your own.”

  Aubrey tried to watch Candace’s face, not the water rushing beneath the bridge.

  Candace shook her head. “That doesn’t matter now. I’ve taken care of Mr. Jack-lying-bastard-Bender.”

  “The pills? Those weren’t his medicine, were they? You poisoned him!”

  “Lavelle’s bag of goodies had pills of every size, shape, and color. Even some that looked like his heart medicine. A sad case of a medication mix-up.”

  Aubrey tried to duck out of Candace’s grip, but the woman tightened her hold. Fighting on the bridge was not a good idea. Thunder Falls roared just downstream. Aubrey couldn’t see the safety net. Was it only strung across the river during challenges?

  “Why switch his pills?” Aubrey asked. “With Bender dead, you lose everything.”

  “Jack keeps a lot of cash in our little hideaway, and I’ve got the key.”

  “Are you sure that’s secure?” Aubrey asked. “Some other woman might get to it before you leave camp.”

  “There is no other woman. Of that, I am certain.”

  They were half way across the bridge. On the far side was a bus, safety, and the police.

  “At the museum, Grant and I saw Jack make a pass at Veronica. He told her he’d make sure she won the competition if she did him a favor. I’m guessing you know what he meant by that. Veronica turned him down, so there must be some other woman planning to share the Caribbean condo with Bender.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Doug saw the contract.”

  Candace released her grip on Aubrey and stood solidly on both feet. So much for her sprained ankle.

  “No one’s going to stop me from getting what I’m owed.”

  “Not even Stewart? You killed him because he was going to show Bender the photos of you with Rowdy. Considering how things are ending now, that was a waste, wasn’t it?”

  Candace’s lower lip quivered. Aubrey wasn’t sure whether she was going to break down and cry, or fly into a rage.

  “I didn’t kill Stewart.”

  Aubrey had seen an empty shopping bag from the Glenn Honey Farm in Candace’s wastebasket, which surely implicated her in murder by honeybee. Then again, Aubrey had watched Bender pick up the injector from her hiding place under the bed in Nel and Stewart’s room. The way he quietly pocketed it. Candace sounded sincere, but how sincere could a killer be?

  Grant appeared at the far end of the bridge. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted to be heard over the roaring of Thunder Falls.

  “We’ve got hot coffee and a warm bus waiting for you!”

  Candace didn’t seem to be in a hurry. Maybe she understood, despite her bravado, that a whole lot of trouble waited for her at the end of the bridge.

  “That ambulance will get Bender to the hospital in time, and they’ll put him on the right medication. If you tell me what really happened, I can tell the police—”

  “You have to believe me, Aubrey. I did not kill Stewart.”

  She had just admitted to trying to kill Jack. Maybe she was telling the truth.

  “Hurry up,” Grant yelled.

  Madison appeared behind him, waving her arms as though her encouraging motions could pull Aubrey more quickly to land. If only. Aubrey tried to push her way around Candace on the narrow, swaying bridge. Candace gripped the rope railings and forced her back a step.

  “Why does everyone else get what they want?” Candace’s face twisted. “Why can’t I get one simple thing for myself?”

  “Seems to me you got everything you wanted. You just wanted the wrong things.”

  “Mrs. Bender owns the factory.” Candace shook
her head. “I never saw that coming. I put up with a lot from that drunken bastard. I even kept my mouth shut when he murdered Stewart.”

  “Jack killed Stewart?” That scenario had not occurred to Aubrey, but it made sense. He pocketed the epinephrine injector, not to protect someone else, but to cover his own crime. “Why?”

  Candace took another step toward Aubrey, forcing her back. Aubrey was going the wrong way—away from rescue, hot coffee, and her husband.

  “I didn’t know why he wanted a jar full of honeybees. That wasn’t my fault.”

  Aubrey suspected the “I was only following orders” defense wouldn’t go over well in a court of law.

  “Stewart was stupid enough to blackmail Bender over missing barrels of chemicals. He should have known better than to try to outfox a fox.”

  Shock rolled over Aubrey, chilling her deeper than the spraying river water. Candace had been in the Olde Tyme Photography shop when Stockton’s Revenge dropped off Stewart’s film.

  “You stole the photos we had developed! You didn’t take them because of a photo of you with Rowdy, but because there were shots of a toxic dump site?”

  “I tried to warn you that sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong would get you hurt.” Candace took another menacing step, forcing Aubrey backward.

  “Grant and Madison are watching. Don’t do anything—” Aubrey began to say “crazy,” but stopped herself.

  “You fell off the bridge once,” Candace said. “You have a history of catastrophe.”

  Aubrey backed up another foot. If she couldn’t reach Grant, she would have to take her chances on the other side of the bridge. She turned, but before she could escape, Candace grabbed the sleeve of her windbreaker. She gripped fabric, not Aubrey’s arm.

  “I believe you didn’t kill Stewart. I’ll tell the police you’re innocent.”

  “You’re not talking to anyone.”

  Aubrey jerked her zipper down, hoping to wriggle out of Candace’s grasp by shrugging off the jacket. The struggle threw her off balance. Her feet slipped, and she landed hard on the wet planks. Candace fell, dragged down by her relentless grip on Aubrey’s empty jacket sleeve. Her legs slid off the bridge, into the rushing water.